


Understanding

by orphan_account



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, Post-Game(s), Psychological Trauma, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 16:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20392708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Four years after the 53rd and final season of Danganronpa, Gonta gets invited to camp, along with all of his former participants.He muses over the past, while driving.





	Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh I have an entire post game au, and these are only some of the headcannons I have. Yall will see more, eventually, so uh,, yea
> 
> Everyone's mentioned, but I only tagged the ones mentions more than three times.

The radio hummed quietly, some sort of popular pop song that he didn’t know the name of, and Gonta stared out at the passing scenery. There weren’t any other cars out on the road, too far from society, so he slowed the car down, just under the speed limit.

Has it really been four years?

The game was over, and everyone had woken up. Yet the events of that time still felt uniquely fuzzy in his head. Like they never happened, despite the flashbacks and horrid nightmares that kept him awake at night. That was just the nature of things, he supposed, making a gentle turn. It would be a straight shot into the campgrounds from here, and, supposedly, the rest of his former classmates would be waiting there.

‘Classmates’ was kind of a loose term, really, not even an accurate one. They were just the people who Gonta was trapped in the simulation with. People who signed their lives away on a scrap of paper for one reason or another. Gonta himself only did it because it would clear away his record, set him free to rejoin society. The cash prize late-game players got was nothing to sneeze at, either, but Gonta wasn’t sure if it was worth it.

Some of them would say ‘no, absolutely not.’ Namely people like Shuichi, who came out with mostly new memories, and night terrors that kept everyone awake, when they were together, and he wasn’t even a bad person to begin with. Just an overexcited fan, who didn’t know what would happen. Who thought it was worth it. Who won the game, and ended it with a literal bang, coming back as a new person, with only scraps of his former personality. Or Rantaro, who survived his first game, died first in his second, and he… just came off as tired. Gonta didn’t even know what to call his personality, if only because having your head emptied and filled several different times wasn’t exactly healthy. Gonta was just glad that he could rest now.

Even still, Gonta didn’t know where he landed on that scale. It was bad, of course, he and the people he might call his friends would never be the same. They had been ruined, just for a simple price tag and the opportunity for fame, but that price tag saved him. From defending a helpless child, being arrested for assault, to an opportunity to escape and become someone better. Was it worth it? Gonta had enough money to live off of, through prize money and the lawsuits against Danganronpa, and wasn’t it really just going from a bad situation with no money, to a better situation with plenty of money?

Given the same option, Gonta is helpless to acknowledge that he would do it again. That he would have to accept that offer again, even knowing what would happen.

Some of the other contestants would agree with him. Kirumi, who had nothing to her name, who was desperate to become someone, to exist again, to know the feeling of being well fed and safe. Kiibo, who was backed into a corner by the law, much like Gonta, who needed a way out, and what better way than Danganronpa? They came out of it so much worse, yet so much better. Gonta knew years worth of knowledge about bugs, if he wanted, he could become a real entomologist. (He would never. The press and fans would be a nightmare.) He was nicer, had just as much protective instincts, but the flames of anger had been fanned and dissipated from his large body. It sucked sometimes, a lot of times, and Gonta wasn't unaffected by what happened.

Sometimes he felt guilty for thinking that. Can he really say he was effected? Sure, he experienced the flashbacks, the breakdowns, the insumertable feeling of looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger, but he would do it again. Gonta would put himself through everything again, just so he could be where he was now.

Gonta knew it wasn’t right, that the fact that society made participating in a virtual killing game that ruined your memories and personalities your only option for redemption, and even then, it was a fight to get in. He can’t help but think of Angie, who escaped with Kokichi a week after they all woke up. He can’t help but think of the way Kokichi was dragged back, shrieking and spitting and biting the entire time. Of Angie, who vanished into the night, dropping all contact with everyone.

“She sacrificed me to save herself,” Kokichi had admitted one day, expression bitter and resigned. “Whatever. It doesn’t bother me! I should have known better than to trust a fucking cultist.”

Even Gonta could tell which part was the lie. It didn’t matter anyway, because as soon as they were released, Kokichi took off to another country. He could be contacted, Gonta heard he was a tattoo artist these days, but Kokichi took his prize money and fled to New Zealand, of all places. Anything to get away, he supposed. Gonta could understand the sentiment.

The email Tenko sent out said everyone would be there. Gonta immediately redacted Angie from the statement, but he wondered if Kokichi would be there. He wouldn’t mind seeing the short boy again. Even if he got Gonta killed, Gonta couldn’t bring himself to hate any of the contestants. He knew, well now he knew, what he signed up for, and it wasn’t _really_ them in the game. Even post-game, though scraps of their former personalities existed, it was like interacting with entirely new people.

Gonta stopped the car and stepped out. He could spot of few cars in the lot, some familiar, some rentals, some not. The grass softened under his feet, and Gonta scanned the ground for any glass, nails, things that would hurt him. Finding none, he left his shoes in the car, along with his luggage. Maybe he would find some nice bugs, while he was out. Gonta may not be as into them as he used to be, but they were still cool, especially with all of the random facts and trivia he knew about them and their life.

Bugs were nice. Simple. Easy to understand, even in his unique sense of jealousy over the fact that they only had to follow their instincts, then die after less than five years. Gonta could only wish it were that easy.

Or maybe it was just another reminiscent of his oldest personality that was long since wiped away by a single machine. Of a young teenage boy who just wanted to protect those smaller than him. Gonta never killed any spiders, wasps, any bug that ended up in his home. It would be unfair, he thinks, to kill something that never intended any harm. It was unfair, Gonta thinks, to shove children, teenagers, young adults, into the same corner that the spider was in. 

Soon, Gonta was completely surrounded by trees. The campsite was about a mile away, and he found himself going over logs, climbing, and walking over larger hills. It felt good, and he wondered if that was Tenko’s intent when choosing this spot. The energetic girl never lost the ability to read them, even if it was in a more realistic way than martial flipping them. Tenko, if while others tried to reject their former personalities or find a balance, completely embraced her in-game self, almost as much as the survivors were forced to. She ran an actual dojo now, and Gonta thinks that it’s a fitting end. He doesn’t know what her previous life was, doesn’t feel the need to know, and she doesn’t offer any information.

He’s starting to sweat, with all of the heat and humidity of summer, but Gonta can’t help but rush. He was excited, in all honesty. Gonta wanted to see his friends again! Even if some days he had to debate whether or not they were friends. If they met under normal circumstances, would Gonta like any of these people? Well, he doesn’t know the answer, because they are not their former selves. Gonta didn’t want to dwell on it too much. He was happy to see them, and that was what mattered.

The campground was just in sight now, and-

“Gonta!” A strong arm reached around his shoulders to pull him into half a hug, even if the giver had to stand on his tiptoes. Kaito greeted him with a grin. “Glad you could make it, man! You’re, uh, probably one of the last ones to show up.”

The man scratched the back of his head awkwardly, and Gonta immediately understood. Even if Tenko was determined as ever, most of the fellow participants weren’t interested in bonding. Kaito, of course, showed up. He tried to pretend that he was the same as in the game, but everyone remembers the day he broke down in the facility back then. No one brings it up. Gonta could guess who wouldn’t show up. The same ones who never did, probably.

“Well,” Gonta chirped, already feeling his mood lighten from his introspective one. “I’m very happy to see you again, Kaito!”

His speech still felt awkward and clunky in his mouth, sometimes, but Gonta learned to just roll with it. At least he didn’t speak in third-person still, if only because he stuck out enough.

All of the participants changed in someway afterwards, though haircuts and tattoos some of them were no longer recognizable. Gonta’s wild hair that he couldn’t bear to cut, his large stature, made him one of the most easy to recognize participants of season 53. Not that he was ever that popular, a thing he thanked the gods for, sincerely. 

The man in front of him had also changed. Turns out, maintaining the hairstyle he had in the game, was almost impossible to replicate, let alone daily, and it was such a noticeable feature, that Kaito just stopped. He had it down, which Gonta likes a bit better. It made him look more like a real person. Less like a doll, that Danaganronpa dressed up and tortured. Not to mention his eyes were a more clear, realistic brown color, rather than the fantasy-esc mauve ones that were stuck on him in the game.

That applied to them all, really. Some of their features were no longer exaggerated, were now realistic, more plain, less noticeable. It was sad, for some, but most of them were just happy to have some sort of defining feature that separates them from the remnants of the game. Gonta missed his perfect vision and superhuman strength, though. Just a little bit.

His manhole lifting days were far behind him.

“Hell yeah. Come on, you’re just in time for lunch, so I hope you’re hungry. Y’know how Kirumi and Tenko can be when they’re together.”

Gonta was suddenly much more excited, and stated as such. Kirumi was a god at cooking, and Tenko had the enthusiasm to feed hundreds of people. It would be a good day. It already was a good day.

Finally, Gonta was sitting inside, and he had a clear view on who showed up. Despite Kaito’s words, a surprising number of people were there. Kirumi and Tenko were in the kitchen, Ryoma was relaxing next to Rantaro, Kiyo, and Himiko, who was showing off… a frog. Kaito had dragged Gonta over to where Shuichi and Maki were, of course, but Kiibo was also perched next to Maki, chattering excitedly to her.

This meant that Miu, Kaede, Kokichi, and… Tsumugi, weren’t here. Along with Angie, but no one really knew where she ended up, so Gonta didn’t count her. The four that weren’t there were the obvious ones. Miu didn’t really like any of them, and she really only spent time with Kiibo. Kaede was executed first, and she wasn’t in any previous games. She was left with most of her memories intact, so she tended to feel awkward around them. (Plus, there was an unfortunate incident with Shuichi, that Gonta didn’t want to think about.) Almost no one saw Kokichi anymore, even if he was invited, it was rare for him to make an appearance. Tsumugi was the former mastermind, which meant that, well, no one really liked her.

Gonta didn’t know whether that was fair or not. She was just another puppet, wasn’t she? But Tsumugi was the face of their trauma, whether she liked it or not, whether they wanted to forgive her or not, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He texted her and wrote her whenever he could, though, because Gonta wants to forgive all of them. He had to. 

“Oh, hello everyone!” Gonta announced to the whole room, before sitting down with Kaito. He received a chorus of ‘hi’ with varying levels of enthusiasm. He could hear Tenko’s greeting very clearly from the kitchen, followed by swears that were equally loud, along with the clatter of something dropped.

Then, as if a button were pushed, everyone went back to interacting.

Gonta could almost pretend they were a normal group of friends, who bonded through non-killing game activities. Like they weren’t a bunch of people who were changed and traumatized as teenagers. The smell of food was thick in the air, and it gave the entire place an atmosphere of calm. His stomach growled, Himiko made fun of him in a friendly way, Kaito slung her over his shoulders at some point, just for fun. Some people avoided each other, murderers and their victims didn’t interact much, people who tore each other down in the game didn’t either. Sometimes disagreements happened post-game, as well, because that was just how things were.

Much like Tsumugi herself, there were some memories of people that are permanently hurtful. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault, not when they were all twisted and erased. It was what it was, though, and everyone still made it work. Gonta wondered distantly, if that was true. 

All of this could just be a pretty front, an attempt at normalcy, but that was fine. If he closed his eyes enough, then it might as well be true, right? What else could they do? 

Lunch was served soon enough, and Gonta was forced to push his thoughts away, as Everyone gathered together to catch up on things and talk. It was good, chest-warming food, and things were fine. Sometimes they weren't, a lot of times they weren't, but, Gonta thinks, that's fine. It was fine.

They were coping, learning how to live again, and Gonta knows that they will be fine.


End file.
